


Fancy My Fantasy

by RebelDrFerguson



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fires of Pompeii (Doctor Who), Masterbation, Roman!Capaldi, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelDrFerguson/pseuds/RebelDrFerguson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You would never tell him he's your fantasy. But when an afternoon alone is at hand, your husband's teasing just won't leave your mind...</p><p>"Shush...the household gods are always watching..." you mutter as you brush his shoulder off.<br/>He smirks sliding an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek as he breaths in your ear. "You know I'm nothing without my audience"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fancy My Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xXdreameaterXx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/gifts).



"My love have you seen that clasp?" He's calling down the hall as he dashes about a little over excited about his meeting with the new merchants in Rome. "The Beetle one? The Egyptians do love a scarab" 

You scoop up the clasp that's beside you on the dressing table and almost collide with him in the hallway as he turns into your path. "Look, it's here, I just gave it a polish, Now calm down" 

"Oh come on my love, If I get that contract for the mines of Alexandria, then, we'll be rich, you'll see" he's fingering the clasp like it's some precious jewel and your eyes wander to those long slim fingers, the ones that have had you speechless many a night. 

"We'll see...now-" you start but are cut off as your daughter walks by.  
"Ho-wait a minute, You're not going out dressed like that?!" Caecilius is moving away from your touch and you sigh silently in frustration. The smirk of innocence on your daughter's face makes you smile as he goes into full on dad mode. 

"Oh come off it dad, it's the latest fashion, all the girls in Rome are wearing it" 

Caecilius looks to you with mild shock and a wee bit of amusement as your daughter kisses his cheek and makes for the door once more. "Are you seeing that boy again?" he calls questioningly, he'd not yet found a reason to like that farmers boy she'd been seen with these last few weeks. You were at least glad he was handsome and a hard worker, whether money was involved was your husband's issue. That and whether he washed enough or had any cultural interest past sheep and hay bales. 

You turn to mess with Caecilius robes as Quintus passes you on his way out to his tutors for night class, you find his belt is all twisted and with a tut pull it from his hips and straighten it out, glancing up as you hear him chuckle. 

He looking at you like that again. That serene way of his that has your thoughts wash away in a sea of warmth and unsanitary fantasies. "You could never dress yourself..." you smile shyly wrapping the sash back around his waist and tucking it in properly this time.  
"You sure I don't just do it so you'll take my clothes off?" he teases still fingering the scarab clasp that he'd now firmly fixed on his collar. You fight the blush that rises to your cheeks. "your thinking about it..." 

You are and you know you shouldn't he'll be gone for over 2 hours and you'll have things to do. Getting horny isn't one of them. "Shush...the household gods are always watching..." you mutter as you brush his shoulder off.  
He smirks sliding an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek as he breaths in your ear. "You know I'm nothing without my audience"  
You can't help the little whimper of pleasure that's mixed with embarrassment at that comment and gently press him away. " Go, you'll be late"  
One last quick kiss and he's picking up the silk bag by the door just as the housemaid appears to tell him his merchantry had arrived. 

Your now alone to do as you please, Perhaps you will return to reading, though more recently you'd found yourself writing. The story of a rogue-ish man, a man of many names, but calls himself a Doctor, one who travels all of Italy in search of money and happiness, the man of many women and possibly even children. A man that held wealth and women above other things, from one night stands to true love and falls, tumbling into the chaos and excitement of settling down...a family.  
For some reason you feel your character was becoming more and more like Caecilius. So much more gentle, passionate...finding new loves in art and family and marriage.  
You taken to secretly writing your passions in this story. It helped pass the time. The need to be lavished with food and wine, to be serenaded into love's open arms, swept into the silk sheets of your marital bed and pinned beneath the writhing and heated flesh of a lover, deeply entwined and lost in communication beyond the erotic sounds of your love making. 

You're shocked back to reality as your fingers have seemly found their way under the table...and beneath your dress. Your nails dig into your thigh as your teeth worry your bottom lip at the images. Looking to the curtains that hide your bedroom across from the study, the resounding echo of a previous sexual encounter on those sheets tease your ears. Tearing yourself from those memories you look back down to the pages of the small and delicate note book, noting your had not written more than 3 or 4 more pages...but how long had that taken you? 

You were unsure when your husband could return, the children would be gone for long enough tonight, Evalina may not return till morning. The heat between your own thighs is becoming a bit much. It's burning into your loins as you think more and more into your story...his hands...his lips...Caecilius eyes flash though your mind and your moving.  
You let the curtain fall into place behind you. Whisper an apology to the gods before sliding onto his side of the bed and inhaling the scent on the pillow.  
As much as he got shy in the bedroom at times, when you got him going, he got wild. He tries his hardest to be a sensitive lover. But the marks on your neck the morning after make you tingle knowing you can break him into something that's almost primal. You find yourself giggling at his habit of kissing the damned Julius statue on the window sill and covering before he 'sins'. 

You're slipping your fingers between your thighs as you close your eye against the onslaught of passionate images.  
Your rogue, the dark haired, gruff voiced and muscular roamer is morphing, into something a bit more realistic, something slimmer yet still as handsome...the beard and dark eyes give way to fierce blues and 5 o'clock shadow.  
A moan breathes through the room as you press at your clitoris harder. You can almost feel his breath against your shoulder, his hands grasping your hips and his own arousal rubbing against the inside of your thigh. 

Your left hand frees itself from the tangle of sheets to pinch at your nipple. Recalling how Caecilius makes you squirm by licking and squeezing them. You like how it feels. The little shock that breaks the bubbling wave of excitement that is working its way to drowning you in its wake. 

The silk sheets do little to hide your whimper as you push your fingers deeper, becoming desperate to release the burning need that's holding your stomach hostage. The slick sound of your arousal is causing the heated flush on your face to darken as you feel it running down your hand, overflowing to shimmer on your thighs and soak slowly into the sheets. A tiny part of you wonders what Caecilius would think if he found you like this and suddenly the idea was pushing you over the edge. 

A tidal wave of pleasure rushes up your body, finger's pushed as deep as they can to that sweet spot, as your hips buck as the imagine of Caecilius thrusting inside you and coming has you moaning his name breathlessly, gasping and completely unaware of the pair of blue eyes that were indeed watching you in that moment.  
He'd not been there but five minutes, having rushed in calling you in his glee about the mining deal, came to your desk to view the opened notebook then he heard you gasping his name...now, he's thought perhaps you'd 'celebrate' your winnings of the deal tonight as he made the ride back, but as he stands there with a smirk growing and his eyes wide he's in wonderment whether you should celebrate now...

Finally finding some control you turn your head to listen for if any of the house staff had heard your noise when you see him. 

You feel you should cover, you should move, you should apologise....

You don't move. Your body's still humming with want and his eyes are almost fiercely hungry. 

"Beautiful"

"How long have you been there?" you whisper in a breath trying to get control of your pounding heart which was becoming a bit harder now he stood there, he's pretty much a not-so-secret fetish even an obsession. 

"Not long enough to the looks of it my love" he purrs licking at his lower lip nervously. His eyes dart to the statue and you feel yourself sighing internally. You watch as he steps almost silently across the room, which on second thought is filled with the scent of your sex you notice and it's clear he can smell it too as he steps forward, pulling free the sash you'd had previously tied about his waist and in one move has pulled the top half of his robes off, kisses the statue before covering it with the fine silk.  
A sigh escapes you as you slip your fingers free of your sex and his gaze turns to you as he nibbles the nail of his thumb. Something that he does when his will power and self control is slipping. 

He's never been a man to just jump into bed. He likes to play. Tease, make you beg. But as he seems to come to climb on the bed he's looking out into the hallway as if he saw something. 

You lay back, welcoming his hold and the weight of him on top of you as that fantasy begin to play again...but he's moving away again...into the hall to...turn.the.statue.  
You fight back the urge to mutter a curse as the need to just scream for him to come and fuck your brains out be so utterly uncivil and against your own household morals. But before you can look back, he's in front of you again, finger's nimbly flick away the sheet that had become entangled around your leg to revel the shimmer of your erotic pleasures. You watch almost awestruck as he lifts the sheet to his nose and inhales the musky scent. 

"We got the deal..." he breathes quietly as if it's nothing of importance all of sudden. "We start work in 17 days"

You would usually congratulate him here, alas your brain is unable to form words.

His eye's never leave your body, the swallow he makes as you pull aside your own garments to escape the flush that was devouring your skin had you silently pleading he would move. He's clearly becoming more and more aroused as the silk of his shorts twitch and the hand holding the sheet has lowered as if to hide it.  
"What were you thinking about?" he asks as if curious. He possibly was. It wasn't past him to wonder if he wasn't the only man of your imagination. It wasn't uncommon. There was talk of an affair on the lips of nearly all women you knew. But not you.

"You"

It was as honest as you could be without revealing your hidden pleasure for writing erotic fantasy. 

The admission was clearly too much as the sheet is abandoned and he's in your arms. Rough and callous hands against your sensitive skin and his lips pressed bruising to yours.  
Your hands are in his waistband, shoving the obstructive material down and palming your hardened treasures. The groan that he gives has you whimpering, you want to hear it. Hear him lose control. 

"Caecilius..." 

He's claiming your lips again, hands now spreading your thighs and your lifting them as he sinks in with another throaty groan at your heat.  
"You're so wet..." 

It's not something he's said before and you can only respond with a mewl of pleasure as he began to thrust, The lustful rock of his hips that teases at keeping control and animalistic desperation. You moan amorously as he leans to kiss at your throat. His hot breath becoming more rapid, hips finding rhythm and your nails are digging into his scalp as mutters lustful and wanton, whisper's words of devotion and mild curses. 

A second orgasm cascades through your core and a hand grasp at his bottom as if it would push him deeper. 

"CAECILIUS!" 

Your cry of pleasure must have been so loud, so utterly dripping in ecstasy that it was enough to pull him with you, thrusting erratically with a almost high pitched keel of surprise and satisfaction. 

You find yourself in an odd limbo, shimmering in resolution as his thrust comes to a still and his shuddering breaths lighten. 

The light of the evening sun glows through the room, warming the cool grey walls and soothing your frazzled thoughts as you focus on feeling your heart beating in sync. 

"I love you..."

You smile and bury your face in his shoulder as he slips free and rolls you over so you can lay against his sweat dampen chest. The scent that had started this whole thing now renewed and heavier. 

"Kids will be home soon..." 

Talk about spoiling the moment...

"If there was ever a man that could defy, defile and write a fantasy Caecilius...it is you"  
He chuckles and you snuggle closer. "Speaking of fantasies...Who's this Doctor?" 

You hope the Gods can forgive the curse you make at having forgotten the open notebook. Oh well...looks like they will just have to come true....

**Author's Note:**

> This is utterly trash to be honest...or is it. I don't know, but after watching Fire's of Pompeii 4 times in a row in one day I've become lost to Capaldi's charm once more and have a sudden need to strip him out of those robes...*gulp*


End file.
